A Question of Sprot
by Yoda
Summary: Mwaaaahahahahaha, madness and hilarity abound, my thanks to all the cafe and tower! *COMPLETE*


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A Question of Sprot

The booth was shrouded in the darkness of the field, but suddenly the lights slammed on, illuminating the pitch, for it was here the ultimate battle would take place. Two figures stepped into the booth, one with sandy hair, the other blond, with a look at each other they sat down at the table and pulled the speaker-sticks close. With a flash of colour people appeared in the stands surrounding the field, all eagerly staring down at the red ball, the six posts, the place where battle would commence. Of course, what was a battle without a commentary?

'Goooooodmornin'toyouallonthisfinedayandwelcometothecricketfinalsofthecenturywiththetwoteamsof: GoooooooodversusEviiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiil!'

'Yes, it's time once again for a Question of Sprot–'

'Sportyousillysod.'

'Sport, I'm one of your hosts, Draco Malfoy, and accompanying me this morning is that walking Irish witticism, Seamus Finnegan.'

'Areyoutakingthemickyoutofme?'

'What?'

'Isaid: Areyoutakingthemickyoutofme?'

'Oh, no, you're Irish aren't you?'

'Wellyes.'

'Well there you go.'

__

'Que?'

'Whosaidthat?'

'Basil.'

'Ohrightnow…waitaminute, whothehellisBasil?'

'He's my pet hamster!'

'THAT'SNOTAHAMSTER!'

'What? Yes it is!'

'IsaratMr.Malfoy!'

'What? What the hell does 'Isarat' mean?

'What?'

'What?'

'OI!' shouted an irate Dean Thomas, storming into the booth and glaring at Seamus and Draco. 'Are you finished yet? This is worse then listening to someone spouting crap about Man United! Have you forgotten what you're commentating on? WELL?'

'-ry' Seamus muttered.

'-lly -ry' Draco said in agreement.

'Shift over,' he growled, pulling another speaker-stick out of the booth's table, 'and one of you introduce me.'

'Ahem. Nowjoiningus, theevereloquentandthegreatestfootballfanthewizardingworldhaseverseen–'

'The _only_ football fan we've ever seen,' Draco muttered.

'SOD OFF MALFOY!!!!' roared the crowd, several waving West Ham flags which produced a smug look on Dean's face.

'DeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeanTHOMAS!!!!' Seamus roared, getting an even louder applause then for the announcement of the match.'

'Thank you very much Seamus, good morning sports fans and without further introduction, I give you today's umpires: Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Taerararararesh!!!' More screams and cheers erupted as the elderly wizard and witch strolled onto the field in their whites, Dumbledore with a flat cap perched on his head in place of the usual tall hat, followed by Taer minus his sunglasses.

'Umpires?' Draco hissed, covering his stick, 'what happened to referees?'

'This is cricket,' Dean hissed back, 'it's more refined then Quidditch and football.'

'But you don't even fly!'

'Ohbuggeroffwhydon'tyou?' Seamus said, not bothering to cover his stick.

'YEAH!!!' roared the crowd, 'BUGGER OFF WHY DON'T YOU?' causing the normally pale Draco to turn into a fetching shade of crimson.

'Anyway, onto the match, and before the teams arrive, will you all stand for the entrance of the Queens. All the way from the Gryffindor Tower, and our café–'

'You have a café?' Malfoy asked incredulously, or at least he would have if Seamus hadn't hit him with a trout at that precise moment.'

'I proudly present; the Queens and Upperclass Twits of the Year: Paula, Imogen, Anne, Carissa, Caitlyn and Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamy!' Dean continued, smirking sideways at the stunned Malfoy as the crowd roared once more.

'Ai am not amused,' Paula muttered, sitting down, 'Ai was not under the impression that we were an upperclass twit, and why wasn't Ai the one to be called Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaula?' This muttering was generally lost though when a figure clad in white hesitantly stepped onto the pitch and was greeted by a resounding cheer.

'And here comes Team Good!' Dean shouted, entirely too enthusiastically for a cricket commentator, 'led out by Captain Harry Potter, there's Ron Weasley who handles strategy, Hermione Granger who does complicated stuff no one understands, Fred and George Weasley; the backward middle slip fielders, Ginny Weasley who'll be their wicket keeper today while stealing the other team's socks.'

'Andherecomestherestoftheteam, itlookslike, yes, it'sthewibblequartetofYoda, LittleGrabbi, Bragg247, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaandIsabella.'

'Following them is the last member of the team –alan, who has a somewhat personal reason for playing today, his evil twin bob- is appearing on the other side I believe?'

Rubbing his head where the trout had smacked him, Draco resumed his commentary as the evil side walked on to a smattering of very polite applause, after all, this was cricket. 'That's indeed right Dean, and here they come now, led by the Dark Looooooooooooord Voldemort, with him is…is…Mr. Quirrel–'

'What's his first name?' Dean hissed to Seamus while Draco stared around frantically for the right piece of paper.

'Mr.FluffyBunny? HowthehellshouldIknow?'

'Tiberius Quirrel!' Draco shouted out successfully with a glare at Seamus, 'and also the Minister of Silly Walks, Bartemius Crouch the younger! And also Crouch the older…wait a minute, should he be there?'

'Ah, take a good look at his eyes Draco, they're all glazed, looks like he's been Imperiused onto Voldemort's team, but there's nothing wrong with that, they did need the numbers.'

'True indeed Dean, and that probably explains why the six remaining members of the team are all from Gryffindor Tower and the café!'

'Tha'sright, heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's: Aevil, bob-, Ping! and Peer!, SSC, Wytil aaaaaand Kyle!

Once again a polite smattering of applause rang out, as the two teams walked over the grounds, or in the case of the Wibblers, chased Binky around as he attempted jump on the nearest Evil team member. Eventually with judicious use of lightsabres, shrubberies and the aid of Nessie they lobbed him into the lake where he began a surveillance operation on the Evil team.

Back in the centre of the field Dumbledore threw up the coin between Harry and Voldemort, watching as it flipped it's way upwards, Voldemort made the call: 'Edge! No heads! Tails! Edge!', Harry rolled his eyes and just walked off leaving the coin, which had been floating above the ground waiting for Voldemort to decide, stuck edge up in the floor. 'I choose batsies!!!' Voldemort shouted, grabbing the nearest bat and running to his stumps.

'Batsies?' Dumbledore muttered with a look at Quirrel who could only shake his head, 'good grief!', picking up another bat Quirrel walked to the other set of stumps where Taer had taken up his stance waiting for the first bowl of the game.

'AndnowasthetwoteamstakeuptheirpositionsIt'inkwe'rereadyforthegametobegin.'

'What?'

'Wha–'

__

'Que?'

'Isarat!'

'It's a hamster!'

'And Harry Potter takes the ball and begins his run for the first bowl of the game!' Dean shouted loudly over the two prompting a sudden silence over the field while Harry stood looking bemused in the middle. As one the crowd glared at Dean, 'Well it shut you all up didn't it?' he asked, carefully avoiding the gaze of the regulars crowded in the stands.

Ignoring everything, Harry picked up the cricket ball and began his run down the crease, reaching the stumps he swung his arm round, nearly decapitated Taer, and launched a vicious right-hand spinner with a googly twist at Voldemort. With a flick of his wrist the Dark Lord sent the ball on it's way between Hermione and Ron, allowing him and Quirrel to run for three runs before Bragg threw the ball back into Ginny at the wickets.

Standing at the wicket opposite Quirrel, Harry threw the ball in a gentle underhand arc that bounced and moved into the right height for him to hit it for six. Twitching like mad Quirrel swung the bat round, missed the ball in a spectacular fashion and chopped his wicket in half as the ball bounced off his kneepad.

'Hooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooowzat?' Harry shouted at Taer nearly deafening him.

'Well now,' Taer said, 'I think we'll have to see about that.'

In the crowd every jaw dropped as his Welsh accent floated across, and a cry of: 'TAER'S WELSH?!' rang out.

'Well I think he's certainly out,' Taer continued, completely oblivious and pushing his moderation button so the crowd turned into a bunch of mimes, excluding the café bunch.

'He's Welsh?!' cried Ducky, not noticing most of the café dwellers around her moving away as Taer donned his sunglasses and pointed his IRC remote at her. 'I mean, Quirrel's out! Yay! Quackle!' Ducky continued, not missing a beat and with a click on his remote Taer gave the rest of the crowd their voices back.

'AndsoinanabsolutelyspectacularfashionQuirrelisdismissedbyHarryPotterandthatwillbringupCrouchJr–' Seamus's voice cut out as did his oxygen supply.

'To bat for evil,' Draco continued while Dean emptied the water jug over the unconscious Irish commentator.

'Alas poor Quirrel,' Voldemort confided to Taer as Crouch Junior. stepped up to bat, 'I knew him well, and it was a fake twitch as well.'

'Harry Potter will now deliver his second bowl of the game…but wait has the ball turned orange? Turned into an orange?' the crowd watched as Dean's proclamation rang out. With a squelch it bounced rapidly up towards Crouch who swung and knocked the ball through the air to the right where the Wibblers had formed a deep-square-leg-foot-cover and with Yoda on top they ran towards the speeding orange.

'Andthepyramidofwibblersfliesthroughtheairanditlookslike…yesYodahascaughttheorangeinhismouth!'

'And that's Crouch gone for a Golden Jibblywotsit!' Draco proclaimed.

'Jibblywotsit?' Dean said, shooting him a glance.

'You can't tell me you actually understand all the ducks, geese and whatnots the fly around in cricket speech?'

'Well no, but Jibblywotsit?'

'Oh "%&££^*^$£%^£ and then you can "^^"%&"&"%&**$% as well.'

'Sod off Malfoy.'

'AndsonowAevilstepsintotaketheplaceofCrouchJr.dismissedtherebyawonderfulWibbletactic.'

'Yes,' agreed Draco, 'Amazing use of the Granger Wibble Manoeuvre I must agree.'

'AndimmediatelyHarryPotterbowlstheballdownthegrooveatAevilandit'shitherleftpawsurelyPBW?'

'Hoooooooooooooooooooooooooo– ' with a click of his remote Taer stopped Harry's cry and lifted his finger to signal that indeed Aevil was out, another click produced '–zaaaat!' from Harry. However instead of sullenly walking away Aevil pounced on top of Taer and proceeded to attempt to lick him to death.

'Ai say,' Paula remarked to Allie[?], who had taken a seat beside the Queens being a Princess, 'That's not cricket is it?'

Eventually, with the help of Minerva and Albus, Aevil was lifted off of Taer who while thoroughly licked was showing no signs of being killed by it. With a signal to the pavilion, the glassy eyed Crouch Sr. made his way towards the pitch. Halfway across the grounds his progress was interrupted when Binky sailed out of the air and landed on top of him, his whale song belting out proudly.

'And so with that unfortunate turn of events for the evil team–'

'They used a bloody whale on him!' Draco said.

'Well listen, he had a good reason!'

'I just hear a bunch of whistling and clicks.'

'Ahem.' Outside the booth, Isabella glared in on Dean and Draco, 'What he said was: 'Ha, got that bugger who killed the whales.'

'He didn't kill any whales!' they exclaimed simultaneously.

'So what – he was still a politician,' Isabella said with a burst of whale song approval from Binky. 'Anyway, they have a substitute batter.'

'YesandwiththatinmindhereisthesubstitutebatterforaveryflatCrouchSr, it'stheoneandonlyBovine!!!!!!!'

'But he's a batter on the good team!'

'He's still a substitute, look, will you just shove off or not?'

'Not!'

'DAMN!' chorused the crowd.

'SoanywaySSCtakesuphisbatandPotterbowlsandit'sgoneforthreethat'llbringupVoldemortagain!'

'Steal home! Steal home!' Nick shouted from the stands as Harry began his run up again, sadly SSC just stared at the confused fan. Voldemort struck the ball with another spin between the fielders for a four as it crossed the boundary. 'Run you idiots! That's not how you play baseball!!!!'

'This cricket you silly sod!' SSC shouted back, whipping out the cow launcher and firing Bessie into the stands.

'SSC!' Minerva shouted as Bessie landed on top of Nick, 'You can't do that, you're ejected from the game!'

'What? You cannot be serious!'

'This isn't bloody tennis either!' she shouted as Bovine walked dejectedly away from the field, the crowd's initial cheers for his marvellous shot turning to boos when they saw his replacement: the dreaded Ping! and Peer! demon stepped onto the field. Running over to Harry, the crowd saw Hermione pass him a thick text as the two headed, bell shaped computer demon took it's place and waited for Harry to bowl. With a gulp Harry ran along and threw the ball to Voldemort at the other end and while Taer was distracted by it's twisting path through the air, Harry clouted Ping! and Peer! with the text.

'No Harry!' Hermione shouted, 'You're supposed to _read _the book!' but with a fizzing of computer parts and the soft _Ping!_ of a bell, Ping! and Peer! fell over at Taer's feet.

'Oh well, what are we going to do about that then?' he said, and once more he raised the 'out' finger as Ginny flung the cricket ball into the stumps behind the collapsed demon who was out of his crease.

'Andashockin'dismissalthereasthemightdemonfallstoamarvellousplaybyHarryandGinny.'

'Yes, one would think they almost cheated,' Malfoy said, only to be knocked unconscious as another trout hit him, the one thrown by Aery from the crowd.

'So that'll bring up Wytil to face Harry's next bowl after that no ball, quite a threat this one, isn't that right Seamus.'

'Youaren'thalfwrongthereDeanthey'llhavetobeverycarefulwithhimatthecreasethewilyWytilreally... Oh. He'soutalreadyforaFlyingGreyhound.'

'A flying greyhound?'

'Bugger off Malfoy!' Wytil growled as he stalked back, 'Stupid flying trout blocked my vision.'

'So, let'srecapthescoresandit'sEvil11for7whileGoodhaveyettobat.'

'Well we'll see now if Kyle can turn it around for Evil, and he's at the stumps now and here comes a south-side-leg-spinner-wicked-witch-of-the-west-flagger and he's hit it for six! Amazing!'

'Yesquiteamazingindeedamarvellousdisplayofreversecounterhittingfromtheyoungplayerandnow…ow' with a resounding crack of willow Kyle knocked himself out as Fred and George bewitched the cricket ball to aim at his face.

'And so with Kyle very much out, yes our fourth official Jewels has kindly pointed out that he is indeed, unconscious and out, out he is, he is out, out is he.'

'What?'

__

'Que?'

'Basil. Shut. Up.'

__

'Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelled of elderberries!'

'What?'

'Whatdidthatirritatingfurrymidgetsay?'

'Soddit,' Dean replied, scooping up Basil and depositing him outside the box, 'and we move on now to our final batter for the Evil ones before they are out, it's bob- , -alan's evil twin.'

'Ahyesnowtheproblemwiththisisit'llallgetveryconfusing, ohwaitaminute, -alanischargingbob-…'

'You're right, and, oh they're fighting, this is appalling – you American's are ruining the game!'

'It'inkifwelookatthereplaywe'llseewhythishashappened, seethere, adistinctwavebySockieatbob-'

'Ah yes, and Sockie has obviously waved at the wrong twin, but doesn't this fight show how much they both care for her.'

'InthemeantimeMr.TheWorldisPinkandFluffythat'sthevilsidealloutandVoldemortdoesnotlookhappy.'

'No he doesn't, and that'll bring up Harry and Ron to start the batting for Good, they've got 10 wickets and a total of 17 runs to beat – do you think they can do it Seamus?'

'Yes.'

'Really?'

'Yes.'

'Oh. And with that comment from Seamus we see Voldemort bowling a slip-spin-fast to Harry and he'll not get the bat there in time – but he does! It's gone for six!'

And so as the sun begins to stroll into the afternoon sky we see all is well as the cricket ball is consistently whacked to kingdom come by Harry, and with the score on 144 for 0, we break for afternoon tea, and for some, lashings and lashings of ginger beer.


End file.
